


"A Very Present Problem": A Little!Will Christmas Adventure

by LivingOnTheEdge5



Series: Little!Will and Daddy!Hannibal [12]
Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Christmas Lists, Christmas Party, Christmas Presents, Little!Alana is sassy, M/M, Visit from Santa, description of sexual puppy play between adults, non sexual age play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-20
Updated: 2015-12-20
Packaged: 2018-05-07 06:35:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5446754
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LivingOnTheEdge5/pseuds/LivingOnTheEdge5
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Little!Will has a vision for Christmas but knows Daddy!Hannibal wouldn't  approve.<br/>What's a boy to do?</p><p> Characters are based on telera's and trr_rr's verse.</p><p>A rather long one shot written for a micro-mini gift exchange.</p>
            </blockquote>





	"A Very Present Problem": A Little!Will Christmas Adventure

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Elle82](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elle82/gifts).



Little Will loves everything about Christmas and Christmas time: the decorations, the holiday specials on TV, helping his daddy make cookie plates for all their friends.

 But the one thing little Will love most of all is PRESENTS.

 Lots and lots of presents.

 So many presents, that even his nimble, little body couldn't thread its way through all of them on Christmas morning, because there were just SO...MANY...PRESENTS.

 Well... that is what little Will imagines it would be like at any rate, because the sad truth is, daddy Hannibal doesn't share Will's splendiferous vision of Christmas time.

 Not...one...tiny...little...bit.

 Daddy Hannibal, with his fancy European background, despises American Christmas and all its tinsel-y, mass-produced, Black-Friday-mass-teria.

 For daddy Hannibal it is all so...distasteful.

 In July, when Hallmark begins stocking its stores with Keepsake ornaments, little Will can be found covetingly ogling them while his daddy waits for him in a nearby cafe. And when the boy finally emerges, blinking in the blazing hot sunshine, clutching an ornament catalogue in his damp, little hand, his daddy never deigns to examine it; not even to coo over all the clever little designs and contraptions.

 "But whyyyyy dadddeeeee," little Will whines as his daddy helps him into their car, "I've checked-off all the boxes beside the ones I want...see?"

 "Plastic ornaments have no _soul_ little one...I much prefer my own or the ones you make for me."

 And _presents_? Don't get little Will started on the topic of his daddy and _presents_.

 "Little boys and girls should receive no more than two or three presents at Christmas," his daddy sternly lectures. "More than that makes little ones greedy and unappreciative of what they receive."

 And though little Will argues... and pleads...and whines until he is inevitably punished for making a nuisance of himself, Hannibal remains stoic in his beliefs; their Christmases together will be simple, elegant, and most of all...tasteful.

  _Humph_.

Well this year, little Will has decided, the reign of Daddy-Who-Says-Little-Boys-Shouldn't-Get- Too-Many-Presents-The-Old-Scrooge must end...

But how?

Will knows he needs an ally for the sort of Christmas he has in mind, and a powerful ally at that.

Will needs...The Big Man himself: Santa Claus, Father Christmas, Saint Nick, Kris Krinkle, Sinterklaas, Senis Šaltis. He needs all of them.

 The only problem is, but its a biggie, how does a little boy with an all-seeing-all-knowing-daddy make his truly wonderful plan a reality without raising suspicion?

 It's a HUGE problem; Will's little curly mop has been aching since the end of November with trying to puzzle it all out. He knows, from past experience, that when it comes to sneaky, deviant behavior, little Alana is the girl to consult. But he is also wily enough to realize that a sudden request for a play date with his frenemy would raise his daddy's suspicions.

Christmastime, little Will finds, makes his seemingly omniscient daddy even more so; and very, very, irritable besides.

 _The old grump_.

 So little Will is forced to fall-back on the only adviser he has access to on this mid-December day; his big cousin.

 "Matty? How do I make sure Santa gets me all the toys I want?"

 "Ummm...I don't know...write him a letter?"

Matty's interest in this topic is lukewarm at best. Currently he's glued to the T.V. in Will's playroom watching ultimate cage fighting. His little cousin frowns and scurries over to block the screen.

 "Hey! I was watching that!" Matty protests, craning his neck around the boy. Little Will stomps a slippered foot and crosses his arms across his chest.

 "No Matty! Not till you help me!"

 "Awww, come on Pooh Bear!" Matty pleads when the audience roars as an announcer comments on the copious amounts of blood gushing from a combatant's nose. " I'm missing all the good stuff!"

 "Good! Cuz you were supposed to help me with Christmas today! Not watch fighting ...that's not Christmas-y!"

 Little Will holds-out his hand and Matty reluctantly hands over the remote. "Well it's my kind of Christmas-i-ness!" Matty grumbles. "Didn't you see? The announcers all had Santa hats on!"

 Little Will snorts derisively and turns-off the TV. "Matty! This is serious!"

 Matty laughs at how cute little Will looks in his Christmas overalls with their appliqué reindeers and snowmen, then sighs, signaling defeat.

 Little Will's eye's light-up triumphantly; he knows the significance of that sigh very well.

 "Yay! Okay... so how do I make sure Santa really gets my list this year and gives me everything I want, even if daddy doesn't want me to have them?"

 Matty looks blank.

 "Ummm...well...what have you tried so far?"

 "Emailing to the North Pole, mailing a real letter to Santa's Workshop... " little Will ticks-off his fingers as he enumerates his strategies of Christmases past, "... handing the mall Santas my letters, putting a letter in the fireplace like in Mary Poppins..."

 "What happened when you did that?" Matty interrupts.

 "Daddy found it and put it in his 'Will Box,'" the boy recalls angrily.

 Matty looks confused. "What's a 'Will Box?''"

 "Well...there there's more than one...but it's where he puts all my special drawings, and pictures, and stuff...nevermind about that now! I forgot where I was..."

 "The fireplace..."

 "Oh yeah! The fireplace...so I had to sneak back and put in another one, but he found that one too, the old fusspot... the freezer..."

 "The freezer?!"

 "Matty! Stop in-ur-upting me!"

 "Will?"

 Daddy Hannibal is standing in the entranceway of the playroom. "Lunch is ready."

 "We're not hungry daddy," Will says shooting poor, habitually hungry Matty a look.

 "Oh, really? Is that true Matty?"

 Matty's eyes go wide and innocent; a sure sign he's lying.

 "Yes Uncle Hannibal...I had a big breakfast before I came." Matty's empty tummy gurgles in protest; Hannibal frowns.

 "Well... I would like both of you boys to come and have at least some milk and perhaps a piece of fruit; little Will hasn't eaten a thing since very early this morning."

 Matty rolls his eyes pleadingly to his little friend.

 "Fine," Will huffs. "Let's just get it over with," he mutters under his breath.

 A strong hand catches his shoulder and another raises his chin to meet his daddy's stern eyes.

 "That is not how a little gentleman behaves. Do you need a spanking to help you remember your manners?"

 Little Will winces at the forced eye contact and wriggles.

 "Sowwy daddee."

 Hannibal relaxes. "Sorry what little one?"

 "Sowwy I was wude."

 "Very well...good boy. I forgive you...now go with Matty and wash your hands. I've set lunch up in the Music Room."

 "Weally?" Little Will loves eating in the Music Room.

 "Yes...off you go."

 Grinning, little Will grabs Matty's hand and hurries off to the washroom.

 Before he follows after the boys, Hannibal picks-up a few scattered toys when something on little Will's desk catches his eye. He walks over and sifts through the detritus until he unearths something very interesting; Will's stash of porn. Hannibal thumbs through the thick stack of toy catalogues and mailers from: Toys R Us, Target, JC Penney, Kmart, Wal-Mart, Radio Shack, Sears, he stops keeping track after twenty three, many of them duplicates.

  _My little one's hoard_ , he thinks smiling.

 His smile freezes however, when he notices how many of the pages are marked with post-its and covered in a childish scrawl reading : SANTA NEEDS TO GET ME THIS!

 Quickly, Hannibal flips through page after page of the crassest, grossest, most mast-produced toys imaginable, keeping count as he goes; it takes less than two minutes for the man to tally his boy's avarice.

 Two hundred and seven.

 Little Will has marked-down two hundred and seven toys, stuffies, and games he _needs_ from Santa.

 "Daddeeeee!"

 From the Music Room, Will is seated and waiting. Hannibal puts everything back the way he found it and composes his face to tranquil fatherliness. _Perhaps it is nothing_ , he thinks as he heads toward the kitchen. _Perhaps this is merely my little one's way of exorcising his demon of greediness. Will understands my views about such things very well_.

 "Coming!" He replies, and enters the kitchen to fill a tray with mini grilled cheese sandwiches and ramekins of French onion soup still warm from the oven.

  _Or perhaps, just perhaps, it means a little bit more._

  
\-------------------------

  
Blissfully unaware his daddy has unearthed his greedy secret, little Will forgets he isn't hungry and scarfs down his food. As for Matty, he is practically purring after finishing his fourth sandwich and third bowl of soup; he stares contentedly into the fireplace flames.

 "Your dad always makes the best grilled cheese," he sighs happily, "he never forgets to cut off the crusts."

 Little Will nods but he is already impatient for his friend to finish. "Matty!" He whispers, tugging on his friend's arm. "You need to stop eating! We have work to do!"

 "Would you like some more soup, Matty?" Hannibal has appeared behind Will's chair.

 "No sir, " Matty replies mournfully.

 Little Will rewards his friend with an approving smile. "We don't need dessert, daddy."

 "Oh no? Not even frozen hot chocolate topped with whipped cream and crushed candy canes?"

 At Hannibal's description, Matty looks as though he might cry if he's denied his treat so little Will relents. "Thank you waiter," he says, falling into the restaurant game they play when Will is allowed to eat in this room. "Dessert and then the check please, we are in _rawther_ a hurry."

 "Very good sir," Hannibal says, bowing and clearing the table before gliding out of the room.

 Will giggles and bounces in his chair before becoming serious once more. "Okay...so I have all my toys picked-out...now I need to write my letter to Santa...but this time, I want to be there when he reads it...just in case he has any questions or anything."

 Good and plentiful food is not commonplace in Matty's life, and Hannibal's excellent meal appears to have stimulated his normally sluggish brain. "I got it!" He yells.

 "What do you have young master?" Hannibal asks as he reappears with the frozen hot chocolates in large mugs, bowls of whipping cream, small containers of crushed candy, and two long, sundae spoons.

 "Umm...I just remembered the name of that kind of dog Will likes," he fibs.

Hannibal smiles knowingly."Oh, yes? What breed?"

 "Umm...Spotted... Tile...Retriever," Matty falters, looking around at the room's decor for inspiration.

 Will winces and would have smacked his forehead if his daddy wasn't watching. "Thank you sir," he says snootily to the 'waiter', "this all looks _simply delicious!_ "

 "I hope you enjoy it... and here is _l'addition_. " Hannibal places an imaginary bill on the table beside his boy."Whenever you're ready."

 "Thank you," Will says, spooning extra whipped cream onto his already heaping dessert and sprinkling candy on top. "Yummy!" He enthuses to Matty who grins and digs into his own frozen confection.

 "I'm full!" Little Will whines after only three bites. He pushes his still-filled mug away.

 "Really? Can I have yours?"

 "Okay...but not until you tell me your idea."

 Matty glances furtively around the room. "Santa," he whispers then sits back and takes an enormous bite of whipped cream and frozen cocoa.

 "Santa...what!?"

 "Here! At your house!"

 This time Will really does smack his own forehead. " Before Christmas!? How'm I gonna do that!? That's a dumb idea Matty!"

 Matty helps himself to another huge mouthful and looks away."You don't understand," he says stiffly when he can speak again, his feelings clearly bruised.

 Will remembers too late that Matty is sensitive about being called names; his daddy Frederick does it too much for it not to sting. "Sowwy," Will apologizes for the third time today. "Tell me!"

 Matty blushes at the apology and ducks his head. "That's okay," he says gruffly. " But you can! You can get Santa to come to your house before Christmas cuz Alana told me Uncle Jack was gonna do it for her!"

 Little Will sits bolt-upright."He is? How? When?"

 "Yup, " Matty confirms while quickly polishing-off his own desert. "Trade with me," he commands," just in case Uncle Hannibal comes back in; I don't want to get in trouble for eating two."

 Will nods and absentmindedly trades his full mug for Matty's empty one. "When is Santa going to 'lana's?"

 "I 'on't know," Matty says around a mouthful of rich, satiny, chocolate. "Want me to text her?"

 "Yes!" Will squeals; Daddy Hannibal doesn't permit him to use a phone without adult supervision,  so this is _perfect._

 "Cool." Matty pulls out his phone and sends a text while stuffing down his second dessert like there's no tomorrow. He gets an answer almost immediately." Tomorrow night," he reads," she says we can come over if we want but she doesn't think Uncle Hannibal will let you."

 "He's gotta let me...he's just gotta!" Will cries and stands-up, wringing his hands pitifully. "Come on Matty! We've got lots of work to do!"

 Matty shovels three spoonfuls of frozen hot chocolate into his mouth in quick succession and stands up as well. He looks longingly down at the unfinished dessert but doesn't resist when he's shepherded out by his voracious little host.

 When he comes in to clear the dishes, Hannibal is puzzled.

  _I have never known Matty to not finish his food_ , he thinks as he loads a tray with dirty dishes and carries it back to the kitchen. _Or, for Will to finish so much of his...Ah_ , he thinks when little Will's shrill, commanding voice echoes down the corridors. _My little one rushed him away before he could finish. Still...that is very curious...very curious indeed._

  
\---------------------------------------

  
Back in the playroom, Will has set-up his "Letter to Santa Command Center."

 "Okay, Matty," he orders selecting  his best Hello Kitty stationery and colored pencils, "we need to go through my toys and figure-out which ones I want the most, just in case he's out of some of them."

 "Alright," Matty agrees pulling a Target ad towards him. "Hey! Look! There's a new kind of Star Wars lightsaber! I always wanted a lightsaber!"

 But little Will doesn't look over, too absorbed in frantically flipping through a Toys R Us ad and categorizing his requests: must-have-or-I'll-die, really-really-need, really-really-want, wants-a lot, this-would-be-fun, this-is-so-cute, this-goes-with-what-I-already-have...and so on and so forth.

 The boys plow thru mailers, magazines, and catalogues until Matty's gone cross-eyed and little Will is cranky from frustrated possessiveness. "Don't stop!" He snaps when Matty sets a magazine down to shrug his tired shoulders and crack his neck. "We still hav'ta number them!"

 Matty nods silently; this is way more work than he'd anticipated and little Will is a jumble of nerves; peevishly barking orders while looking over his shoulder in case his daddy makes a surprise appearance.

 The boys grimly continue, all the holiday joy drained from them in spite of the fact Will's playroom is so warm and festive; there's even a real tree, nearly as big as Will himself, glowing attractively in a corner.

 Matty looks over at the tree and smiles. "Your dad let you get some of those ornaments you like," he observes.

 "I had'ta use my own money," little Will complains not bothering to look at the tree he'd begged so hard for, then happily decorated only a week before. "Come on! We're only on seventy-eight!"

 "You really think Santa's gonna get you all this?"

 Little Will raises tired, dazed eyes to his big cousin. "Why wouldn't he!? I've been real, real, good!"

 Matty looks over at the Christmas tree before he answers. "I don't know...you already have so much...maybe...maybe he needs to save some toys for kids who don't have any."

 Little Will frowns when Matty gets up and walks over to the tree and sits down next it, gazing-up into the branches and sniffing the fresh, pine scent. He looks over at his little friend and smiles sadly. "This is a really, really, nice tree," he says softly.

 The other boy blinks and just like that, it's as though the spell of greed little Will's been under is broken. For the first time in days, he sees his playroom through the eyes of a stranger.

 And it is simply marvelous.

 Little Will drops his list onto the table and sits back to take it all in: the cedar swags, Russian Santas, saucy tomtes, intricate nesting dolls, fragrant tree with its adorable ornaments, and his own especial favorite; his mother's vintage angel chimes with their tiny, red candles.

 "It...it does look nice," he agrees quietly and goes over to sit beside Matty. "What's your tree like?" He asks, hugging his knees to his chest and looking up at the colored lights.

 "Dad said we'd get one... but then he changed his mind," Matty says, his face carefully averted, but Will can hear a husky tremolo in his voice, his own face falls.

 "Oh...you're not going to get a tree?" Will and Hannibal's home boasts two: Will's little tree, and a ten footer in the front parlour.

 Matty shrugs but doesn't say anything and Will rubs his little, warm face comfortingly against his big cousin's shoulder.

 "Don't be sad Matty," he whispers, " I'll go halfsies on my tree."

 Matty kisses the top of Will's head by way of thanks but remains silent. The truth is, though the boy loves his independence, it's hard not to feel neglected during the holidays, especially when he compares his own experience to that of Will and Alana's.

 "Thanks Pooh Bear...it's okay. My dad and I are going to get tickets to a Monster Truck rally," he lies, " that's _way_ better than ornaments and stuff."

 Little Will _feels_ the lie but doesn't say anything. Matty stands up and helps his little cousin to his feet. "Let's finish," he says, heading back to Will's writing table," I have to go home pretty soon to start dinner."

 "Okay," Will says quietly and they finish their task in silence; each boy lost in his own thoughts.

 ---------------------------------

  
Daddy Hannibal notices the little boys' diminished spirits when Uncle Frederick comes to pick Matty up. "Matty? Frederick is honking for you."

 "Okay, thanks Uncle Hannibal. Thanks for lunch."

 "You are very welcome, thank you for keeping Will company."

 Matty grins and gives his little cousin a hug. From down on the street a horn is tooting insistently.

 "Dad doesn't like to wait," Matty remarks and hurries out the door and down Hannibal's stone steps.

 "Bye Matty!" Will calls softly from the front stoop, shivering in the frosty air.

 Inside the car, Matty waves up at him one more time but barely has time to close his door before Frederick peels away.

 Hannibal closes the front door and  places a hand on his boy's head. "Are you feeling alright, little one?"

 Will turns into the comfort of his daddy's arms and rubs his face against Hannibal's broad chest.

 "Yes, daddy... I'm just tired."

 "Perhaps you're coming down with something," Hannibal puts a warm hand on Will's forehead.

 "Daddy? Can we cuddle..." Will asks, throwing his arms around his daddy's waist and clinging to him like a little limpet, " while you read me a Christmas story?"

 "Alright," Hannibal agrees. "Why don't you go pick out a book; I have to finish clearing-up the kitchen."

 "Thanks daddy... _I'm exhausted,_ " the boy drawls in a perfect imitation of his uncle Frederick.

 Hannibal nods understandingly and returns to the kitchen wondering if little Will and Matty had a dispute of some kind; both boys were unusually subdued at Matty's departure. He is cleaning his workspace when his cell rings; it's Jack.

 "Hello? "

 "Hello! How are you?"

 "Well, and yourself? How have you been faring?"

 "I've been...it's been...challenging... Bella loved Christmas."

 "Yes," Hannibal acknowledges then waits in respectful silence until Jack speaks again.

 "That's why I'm calling actually... about Christmas."

 Hannibal's heart sinks. "Oh, yes?"

 "Yes! Little Alana has been keeping me company quite a bit and she's convinced that what we really need is a visit from Santa."

 Hannibal nods. " Yes...I suppose that is the wish of all little boys and girls..."

 Jack chuckles his deep, mellow laugh. "No...I think you misunderstand...I have hired a Santa to come visit my home tomorrow night."

 "Ahhh, I see." _Worse and worse_.

 "Yes... Alana found someone who caters to littles. Does that sound like something you and Will would be interested in? I know its short notice."

 "Oh, I'm certain he would be very happy to attend...is it meant to be a surprise? Or should I tell him that Santa will be there?" Hannibal asks as he opens his refrigerator door and loads vegetables into the crisper.

 "Oh...hasn't he told you? He and Matty already know about it. In fact, Matty texted Alana today. I'm surprised Will hasn't mentioned it to you...unless ...it's because he thinks you won't allow him to come?"

 Hannibal hackles rise at the slight disapproval in Jack's voice; but his tone remains as cordial as ever.

 "No...he mentioned nothing to me, but then he has been busy with Matty. Thank you for the invitation Jack, that is most gracious of you, and thank the little miss for thinking of my boy. What time should we arrive?"

 "You're welcome. How about eightish? Oh...wait... Alana wrote me a note to read to you...hold on...let me get my glasses...alright, it says, 'Make sure Will and Matty wear their Christmas jammies and bring their favorite stuffed animals' unquote."

 Hannibal and Jack laugh at the girl's thoroughness.

 "We shall endeavor to meet her expectations," Hannibal jokes. "See you then."

 "Great! I'll let her know. Goodbye."

 "Goodbye now."

 ----------------------------------

 Strangely, Hannibal's announcement does not produce the unbridled enthusiasm he was expecting in his boy; in fact little Will looks confused for a moment. "We can go see Santa? In person?"

 "Yes. You may sit on his lap, and tell him what you'd like him to bring you for Christmas," Hannibal says, seeing again in his mind's eye the stack of toy advertisements.

 "Oh..." Little Will says faintly.

 It is nighttime now and Will has been fed, bathed, brushed, read to, and tucked-up into bed with Santa Bear; Mr. Bear in a Santa suit and little, white beard. "Okay...that sounds pretty fun."

 Hannibal can read his boy like a well-thumbed book; he wonders why Will is feeling guilty. "What's the matter little one? Don't you want to see Santa Claus?"

 "Yessss," little Will says hesitantly. "But I don't know what to ask him to bring me."

 "Really?!" Hannibal can't keep the shock out of his voice; asking for toys has never been a problem for Will.

 "It's just that...I don't know anymore," Will admits quietly.

 Hannibal nods sagely. "Has something changed darling?"

 Will hides his blushing face behind Santa Bear and nods.

 Hannibal waits patiently.

 "I...I don't want anything this year...cuz I'm a bad, greedy, boyyyy!" Little Will begins to sob.

 Hannibal gathers his boy up in his arms and rubs Will's heaving back. After a while, Will calms down enough for Hannibal to leave and bring back a wet wash cloth to wipe his sticky face.

 "You are my sweet, perfect, little, man," he coos pulling Will onto his lap. "Now, what has caused you to feel this way? And what can we do to make it better?"

 "I weally, weally, wanted presents...but it all went wrong," Will confesses, curling-up in his daddy's arms and resting his damp face in the crook of Hannibal's neck. "I think I know how to make it better...but...but I don't know if you'll like it very much."

 "Well...why don't you tell me your idea... and let daddy make that decision?"

 Will tells Hannibal everything.

 When he finishes, Will closes his tired eyes and begins to suck his thumb. " Can we do it, 'addy?"

 "Yes, sweetness...we'll do it together...I promise."

 Will smiles; to Hannibal he is the sweetest angel ever to grace this green earth.

 "'anks daddy," Will yawns and Hannibal helps him back into bed.

 "You're welcome...sweet dreams mi corazón."

 Will snuggles down under the duvet and cuddles with Santa Bear. "Nite, daddy," he says sleepily, his eyelashes fluttering against his rosy cheeks. "I love you."

 "I love you too Will."

 ---------------------------------

 The next night, at eight sharp, Will, dressed in his Christmas footie pajamas and carrying Santa Bear, rings Uncle Jack's front door.

Seconds later, little Alana opens the door and squeals when she sees Will.

"Hi Will! Hi, Uncle Hannibal. Will, I LOVE your jammies, and Mr. Bear looks SO CUTE!! Matty and Uncle Frederick are already here, come in!" Alana stands aside to allow Will, shyly clutching his daddy's hand, to enter.

 "Is that Willywuss?"

 Frederick's smarmy, oily voice is calling from the kitchen. Hannibal squeezes little Will's hand and whispers reassuring words to him when he notices his boy's hesitation. They enter the kitchen where Alana has already run ahead and is showing Matty the colored frostings and candies for their cookie decorating; the uncles are drinking hot toddies.

 "Hey there buckaroo!" Jack calls to Will. "Those are some snazzy pj's! What's that on them?"

 "Reindeer wearing Christmas lights, " Will answers, shyly glancing over at Uncle Frederick to gauge his reaction. Frederick snorts but doesn't say anything.

 "Well, _I_ like  them!" Jack says, then claps a hand on Hannibal's shoulder. "What's your poison?"

 Will is happy the attention has been diverted. He runs up to his big cousin and hugs him. "Hi, Matty! Did you forget your pj's?" He asks.

 "Nope, I don't have Christmas pajamas, so I just wore these," the boy answers, indicating his old sweatpants and ripped gym t-shirt.

 "That's okay," Alana says, grabbing Will's hand."Uh, Matty? Would you excuse us for just a second?"

 "Why? Where're you guys going?"

 "I wanted to show Will my new Disney Princess make-up kit...wanna come see it?"

 "No! That's okay! I'll just stay here and frost the cookies."

 Alana smiles sweetly. "Okay. Why don't you start icing the snowmen with the white icing? We'll be right back."

 Alana pulls Will through the kitchen, down the hallway, and into her playroom. She closes the door and leans against it dramatically.

Will looks around the room. "Where's the make-up kit?"

 "I don't have one, dum-dum! That was just a trick to get away from Matty!"

 "I'm not a dum-dum!" Will protests hotly, but Alana isn't listening, she's busily burrowing her way into her large walk-in closet.

 "Come here! Look!" The girl demands.

 Will walks over and peers down at a discarded doll stroller and pop-up tent. "What?"

 "Look! It's all the stuff for Matty! Your daddy brought it over!"

 When Will sees what's hidden deep inside the closet his blue eyes go round. " _Star Wars_!" He whispers reverently.

 Little Alana nods her head.

"Yeah...he's gonna love all of it! See this sack? When Santa gets here, he's gonna take it back with him so Matty can have presents on Christmas morning! " Alana shuts the closet door then runs over to her pink Christmas tree and pulls a  L. L . Bean bag from behind it. "And look what else we got him!" Alana cries, producing a pair of red, tartan, flannel pajamas and matching slippers.

 "Christmas jammies!" Will hops up and down, clapping his hands. "But 'lana...how come daddy bought him all the Star Wars stuff...shouldn't Santa make it in his workshop?"

 Alana rolls her eyes. "No Will! Santa only makes _some_ stuff in his workshop... _everyone_ knows that! Some stuff he needs help with...but Santa's gonna be the one to wrap it and bring it to Matty's house."

 " _Ohhh_ , " little Will says. Alana can tell he doesn't understand, but she doesn't the time or patience to explain it all.

 "Come on! We have to give Matty his jammies before Santa gets here!"

 Will and Alana go thundering down the hallway and into the kitchen. The adults and Matty all turn to see what the commotion is about.

 "Look Matty! For Santa's visit!"

 "Try them on, try them on!" Little Alana is swinging the pajamas around like a plaid lasso.

 "For me?" The boy asks.

 " **Yes!!"** Alana and Will yell in unison.

 "Try them on Matty! Santa's coming soon!"

 Matty gingerly pulls the pajamas from Alana and runs his work-roughened hands over them. "They're so soft!" He enthuses wonderingly.

 "And there're matching slippie-slips to go with them!" Will adds hopping with excitement.

 "Slippers too?"

 Little Alana is watching Matty's face as he examines his present. "Merry Christmas, Matty," she says softly, tears glittering in her pretty, blue eyes.

 Matty looks first at her and then Will. "Thanks guys...I...I love them!"

 "Then go try them on!" Little Will yells, doing his happy jig because he feels like he might burst if he doesn't.

 Matty grins. "Okay!" And runs off to the bathroom to change.

 "Ay, Dios mio! What a lot of fuss about nothing!" Uncle Frederick gripes. "Matty has so cranky and disobedient lately! I've had to give him the belt _three times_ already this week!"

 Little Alana frowns and sticks her tongue out at Frederick while he's occupied with the canapé platter. Little Will giggles and follows suit.

"Let's start decorating!"

"Okay!" Will agrees happily and goes to his daddy for help with his apron and chef's hat.

"Don't forget to wash your hands!" Alana bossily reminds him. Matty reappears, dressed in his new pajamas and slippers and grinning from ear to ear.

"Perfect!" Little Alana says.

 "You look very nice," daddy Hannibal compliments the boy.

 "You'll do, " Frederick grunts, which for Frederick, is high praise indeed.

 "Here's your apron, Matty," Will says, handing one to his big cousin. He turns to Alana, "When is Santa coming?"

 "Half an hour, we have to _hustle_!" She replies, and herds the boys over to the island to instruct them on what to do.

 "Your little girl has a commanding air about her," Hannibal observes as he watches Alana demonstrate the proper technique of applying sprinkles.

 "She does! She does! Shall we go into the living room? There's a nice fire going there."

 The three men retire to sit fireside with their drinks and plates of hors d'oeuvres and while away the time until Santa's appearance.

 =====================

 Back in the kitchen, the cookie decorating under Alana's eagle eye, is going swimmingly. Little Will is rambling on about all the Santa facts he's learned over the past few weeks, while little Alana chimes in with the types, and quantities of cookies, cakes, and holiday breads she and Uncle Jack have been busy with.

 Of the three, Matty is the quietest, listening to the other boy and girl, while carefully frosting cookie after cookie.

"Is he gonna bring his reindeer tonight?" Little Will wants to know. "Should we have a bucket of water and some carrots?"

"Nah...he's taking a break from them," Alana says wisely. "Do you put-out cookies for Santa on Christmas Eve?"

Little Will and little Alana discuss Christmas traditions until the cookies are all decorated and a select few are loaded-on a special "Cookies for Santa" plate.

"Perfect!" Little Alana says, looking at their work with satisfaction.

**Ding dong.**

The front doorbell rings and the boys and girls stare at one another.

"He's HERE!" Little Alana screams and sprints like a crazed Christmas elf towards the front door.

"Let me open it!" Jack commands heading her off. He places a hand on the door handle. "Ready?" He asks the assembled boys and girl who gaze at him with large, solemn eyes; they all nod.

Jack opens the door, and a dusting of snow swirls onto the mat. He steps aside, and up out of the dark night steps...Santa Claus.

Santa Claus himself is here, on Uncle Jack's front porch.

Little Will's mouth drops open, Matty's pink ears flame red, and even little Alana finds that she can't stop staring.

 _Santa Claus_.

"Ho, ho, ho! Merry Christmas!" Santa calls merrily and offers his hand to Jack. "I've heard that there are some good little boys and girls here who have been wanting a visit from old Santa Claus!"

"That's right Santa!" Jack says, "Come in, come in and warm yourself!"

"Thank you!" Santa says, and winks at Will who blinks in surprise. "The snow is falling so hard at the North Pole, I was afraid I might not make it!"

Santa is escorted into Jack's living room and over to a large, overstuffed armchair. Santa sinks into its soft plushness and sighs with relief. "Well, it certainly feels good to sit down! Old Santa has been run off his feet these past months."

"Don't your elves help?" Alana asks. She and the other littles have been silently trailing Santa through the house and are now hovering by the roaring fire.

"Ho, ho, ho! I couldn't do any of it without my trusty elves! But there's still plenty to do! Now...who's first?"

Little Will, little Alana, and Matty all look sheepishly at one another.

"Come, come, don't be shy! Would you like Santa to pick?"

The boys nod; Santa chuckles.

"Alright then, why don't I start with this young man!" He says jollily pointing to Matty.

Matty gulps and looks at little Will.

"Go on Matty!" Will whispers encouragingly.

Matty walks up to Santa and stares at him. Santa opens his arms, indicating the boy should sit on his lap.

"That's okay," Matty says," I can stand."

"Ho, ho, ho! Alright, young man! Now, tell me...what is your favorite kind of Christmas cookie?"

Matty looks startled; he didn't realize there was going to be a quiz. "Ummm, the kind with frosting?"

"Ho, ho! Santa likes those sorts too! What is your name, little boy?"

"Matty."

"Matty...what a nice name! What would you like for Christmas Matty?"

Matty looks over to where little Will and little Alana are sitting on the hearthrug; they nod encouragingly.

"Uh, a lightsaber?"

"Ahhhh. Are you a Star Wars fan?"

"Uh,huh," Matty replies, turning bright red.

"Who is your favorite character?"

"Um...Darth Maul?"

"Darth Maul...I don't think I know that one. Is he friends with Darth Vader?"

Matty snorts and smiles his sweet, lopsided grin. "Nooooo...he's before Darth Vader. He's the Sith apprentice who killed Qui- Gon-Jinn when Anakin was still a kid!"

 "Ohhh, my apologies Matty!" Santa winks and takes the boy's hands into his gloved ones. "I'm really going to have to re-watch those! Now...anything else you would like Santa to bring?"

Matty's mind has gone blank, to Will's dismay he shakes his head.

"Ho, ho, ho! Well I'm certain Santa will find some other nice goodies to put under your tree!"

Matty nods, looking as though he would like this whole "Santa experience" to be over with.

Santa pats him on his head and smiles. "I can tell just by looking at you Matty that you've been a good, good, boy. Merry Christmas! And be certain to hang-up your stocking on Christmas Eve!"

"Thank you, " Matty says and stumbles backwards in his hurry to get away; wild horses couldn't force him to admit that he didn't have many regular socks, nevermind a special, Christmas stocking.

Santa looks rather surprised, but recovers quickly, when little Alana sashays up to him and presses against his knees. "He's shy," she stage whispers, " but he's a good boy."

Alana turns to beam at Matty who grins down at his new slippers.

"Ho! Ho! Ho! That's alright! Now... what's your name?"

"Alana!... A L A N A !"

"A pretty name for a pretty girl! _Oufff!_ " Santa grunts suddenly, when without warning, Alana launches herself onto his lap. "Well! You're an eager little thing! Have you been a good girl this year Alana?"

"Very!"

"Good! And what would you like Santa to bring you?"

Out of the pocket of her Christmas pajamas, little Alana pulls a letter.

"Do you want to read it now? Do you need glasses like my daddy?"

"Ho, ho, ho! Old Santa does need his peepers, as Mrs. Claus calls them, but don't worry, you give that to me and I'll keep it safe to read when I get back to the North Pole!"

 "Is it true about Mrs. Claus and cookies?"

 "Ho, ho, ho! Is what true?"

 "That you can tell she's making cookies when the sky is filled with pink clouds?"

 "Ahhh, yes! That is exactly right Miss Alana! And she has been extra busy baking this year!"

 "Me too! I bake cookies and decorate them. There they are! Do you wanna eat one?"

 Alana hops off Santa's lap to bring him the plate of cookies.

 "Ho, ho! I would love to sample one of your cookies! Would you like one as well?" Santa chooses a cookie fashioned in his own image then offers the plate to the girl and the boys; Alana picks a snowman, Matty grabs two Christmas trees, Will abstains.

 "These are the most delicious cookies I've ever had, other than Mrs. Claus' cookies of course!"

 Alana beams at the praise and climbs back on Santa's lap.

 "Thanks Santa! Wanna hear me sing a Christmas song?"

 Santa looks surprised but nods. "That would be wonderful! Maybe the boys could sing as well?" He suggests.

 " **Rudolf the red nosed reindeer!"** Alana bellows; Santa nods in time to her singing.

 Will and Matty grin mischievously when Santa cringes a bit at the girl's missed high notes. Alana finishes with a flourish and smiles proudly. "Wanna hear Frosty?! "

 "Wait!" Santa says, but it's too late, Alana has already launched into her second song.

 "THUMPITY THUMP THUMP...THUMPITY THUMP THUMP.." little Alana yells enthusiastically.

The adults refill their glasses; alcohol helps, but only marginally.

At the end of the final verse, Santa places his hand gently on Alana's head.

"That was _wonderful_ my dear! But I really must be getting back to my workshop, and there is still one little boy I haven't heard from yet." Santa looks knowingly at Will who stiffens.

"Okay! Will! You're up!" Alana says breezily and slides off Santa's lap.

 Heart beating wildly, little Will approaches Santa who takes his slender hands into his large, gloved ones.

 "Will? That is a very nice, old fashioned name! Would you like to sit on my lap?"

 Little Will nods and carefully perches on Santa's knees.

 "So...I was looking over my book of good boys before I came and I saw your name and picture there!"

 "Really?" This is a creepy yet compelling concept to the little boy.

 "Yes! And I read that you are a good, thoughtful little boy, who is kind to others and always obeys his daddy!"

 Little Will looks doubtful. "It says that?"

 "Yes...it does! Now...what would you like for Christmas Will?"

 Will looks over to where his daddy is watching them. He looks up at Santa's interested face then down.

 "I...I don't want anything," he says softly.

 "Really? Nothing at all?"

 Little Will bites the inside of his mouth and shakes his curly head.

 "Well...a good boy like you deserves something! How about if I do what I'm doing for Matty and choose something for you?"

 Will nods his head then leans towards Santa's ear. "Santa? Can you give Matty my presents instead?"

 Santa's bushy white eyebrows rise and he lowers his voice to match Will's.

 "You want Matty to get your presents? Why?"

 Will's face flames from embarrassment.

 "Cuz... he doesn't have any toys ... and I have lots already," he whispers.

 Santa is quiet for a moment before speaking again in his low, gentle voice. "Well...Will... that is a very special Christmas wish. And Santa always grants those. Alright?"

 Will looks up into Santa's grandfatherly face and smiles shyly. "Okay."

 "Good! Now I've got to get going! The elves are giving the reindeer baths tonight and I really should be there to supervise!"

 Will hops off Santa's lap. Santa  stands up to give the little boys and Alana one last hug before being escorted out the front door.

 "Ho! Ho! Ho! Merry Christmas to all and to all a good night!" He calls up from the brick walkway then disappears from sight.

 "We should go see if he's got his sled with him !" Alana yells and is already halfway out the door before she's yanked back in by the seat of her fuzzy pajamas.

"No! Let Santa be!" Jack commands."Everyone inside now! All the hot air is escaping!"

 Little Alana grouses a bit but obeys. Little Will tugs her sleeve. "Whatta 'bout Matty's present!"

 "Santa got it with his magic!" Alana whispers.

 "Really? Let's go check your closet!"

 Luckily, for Alana, Hannibal intercedes. "Will? It's time to go home darling."

 Will's torn; he wants to check to make certain Matty's sack of presents made it to Santa, but he also wants to be a good boy. He pulls his daddy aside to explain his conundrum.

 "Alana is correct, sweetheart," Hannibal murmers," Santa has Matty's toys and will make certain he receives them on Christmas morning."

 Will smiles and relaxes.

Hannibal, kisses his boy and helps him into his coat and mittens. What little Will doesn't know is that it will be daddy Hannibal, not Santa, who will wrap and transport the gifts to Frederick's home on Christmas Eve; his boy doesn't need to know the details.

"'lana said I can bring some cookies home daddy. Can we?"

"Yes," Hannibal smiles." You may."

  
\---------------------

  
Christmas Eve, Daddy Hannibal and little Will host a dinner.

As little Will would describe it , "Everyone was there": Frederick, Matty, Jack, little Alana, Mommy Bedelia, and Mommy Margot. Even little Mason makes a quick, albeit, thoroughly unwelcome appearance, and leaves soon after dinner.

"I thought he'd never leave," Matty complains and Will nods his agreement.

"He's gonna get coal in his stocking! Who cares about stinky ol' poo-poo-head Mason!? Let's go watch a movie!"

The littles retire to Will's playroom to build a blanket fort and watch Christmas movies. At nine o'clock, Jack checks-in and find them fast asleep, huddled together like puppies, with the T.V. still blaring. He goes back to report to Hannibal.

"They're all out cold. How long will it take you?"

"An hour," Hannibal replies, pulling on his gloves. "Come, Frederick. Time to be un rey mago for your boy!"

 Frederick frowns. "That's not till January," he grumps. "I don't even know why we're doing this!"

 "Because it's Christmas," Jack says laying a warning hand on Frederick's shoulder. " And you're going to make it special for your boy or I'm going to whup you myself."

 Frederick's bulgy eyes widen; he's never been dommed by Jack before and the idea of all that brute strength is tantalizingly delicious.

 " _Not now,_ Frederick," Hannibal chides, leading his friend out the door. "You can worry about getting your ass pounded some other time," Frederick scowls at Hannibal's inference. " Tonight and tomorrow is all about Matty. My boy's heart is set on giving him a special Christmas, so that is what we are going to do."

 "Matty doesn't care about Christmas!" Frederick bitches as he climbs into Hannibal's car.

 "He cares more than he allows you to see," Hannibal counters and starts the engine.

 Frederick glowers out the window.

 Hannibal waits until they've reached the highway before squeezing his friend's kneecap; hard. The other man yelps.

 "Ah!" Hannibal laughs," There's my little bitch! Have you been wearing the heat pads I gave you?"

 "Yes sir," Frederick blushes. The disposable pads crinkle when he moves; he's certain his colleagues have noticed.

 "Good girl," Hannibal purrs and Frederick's penis springs to life.

 Hannibal's hand slides to Frederick's groin.

 " _No, no_!"

He gives Frederick's stiff cock a cruel pinch. Frederick squeals and bucks. "Bitches get all their pleasure from their slutty pussies! Do I need to lock you in chastity to remind you!?"

 "No papi! Please don't do that! I'll be a good girl!" And sure enough, the pinch and threat are doing their job; Frederick's penis is going flaccid again.

 "Very well. Maybe if you work very hard tonight, we will have time for a quick breeding when we get back."

 Frederick swallows and tries to think unsexy thoughts. "Yes, sir."

 Hannibal smiles, keeping his hand on Frederick's cock. "We'll see if my little bitch-in-heat can control herself. If she can, then she'll be given a good, rough knotting." Frederick whimpers. "But if she's bad..." Hannibal squeezes again, and Frederick swallows a moan." She'll get chastity. I don't want all the other pups sniffing and licking around your wet, dripping, hole. Whom does your tight, little pussy belong to?"

 Frederick is breathing hard; sweat prickles his armpits. "You sir, only you."

 "Good girl," Hannibal praises and gives Frederick's penis another twisting pinch for good measure. " Remember that and my little bitch  will be rewarded."

 -----------------------------------------------

 Christmas morning Frederick limps down to his kitchen. Hannibal had kept his promise; he had breed Frederick so roughly the night before, Matty had to drive home.

 Matty hands him a cup of steaming Café Cubano.

 "Merry Christmas dad," he  smirks.

 "Merry Christmas Matty. When did you get up?" Frederick leans against the counter and winces.

 "'bout an hour ago. What do you want for breakfast?"

 Frederick takes a sip of the life-giving elixir and hums his approval.

 "Matty? This café is delicious...thank you for making it for me."

 Matty's eyes widen at the unusual praise. "You're welcome...so what do you want? I think there might be a couple eggs..."

 "Just coffee for now," Frederick cuts him off. " But could you be a good boy and go grab my laptop out of my office?"

 "Okay." Matty puts down his own coffee and lopes off on his errand with Frederick following discretely behind.

When the boy passes the living room, he stops suddenly and stares.

 There, set-up, decorated, and lit with a hundred colored lights is a small Christmas tree. And more astonishing yet, it is encircled with many ornately wrapped packages.

 Matty's eyes are saucers and his mouth is an 'O.'

 " _Santa?"_ He whispers.

 Frederick chuckles and the boy whips around.

 "It was all here when I came down this morning...didn't you see it?"

 "No!" Matty turns back to gaze at the miraculous sight." I didn't come by this way! How did it all get here?"

Frederick walks over and puts an arm around Matty's shoulders. "Santa must have come."

Matty looks doubtfully from the tree to Frederick, but doesn't contradict him, then he notices something else. "Dad! Look! There's stockings!"

Matty runs to the fireplace where two knit stockings, bulging with little presents are propped-up against the fireguard.

"There's one for you! See?! It has your name on it!"

"Hmmm...he must have brought those too," Frederick theorizes. "I've never hung a stocking before. Would you like me to start the fire and we'll open them together?"

 If Matty was surprised before, he's flabbergasted by this suggestion. "Oh...okay," he stammers. "What about your laptop?"

 "It can wait," Frederick reassures him smiling. "Let's see what's in these first."

 ----------------------------

  
Little Will and Daddy Hannibal have just finished opening their own stockings when the phone rings.

 "It's Matty," Hannibal says and hands it to little Will.

 "Hello?"

 "WILL!? He came! Santa came! And he brought us stockings, and a tree with ornaments, and _presents_! Can you believe it! He really _came_!"

 Little Will's face lights up, he gives his daddy a thumbs up.

 "That's great Matty! What'd he bring you?"

 "I didn't open any presents yet."

 "Why not?"

 "I...kinda wanted to save them," Matty admits bashfully. "I've never had a tree and a stocking before...and so many presents! I counted _ten_! _Ten presents_! All for me!"

 Little Will crows like Peter Pan and does his victory jig; _Matty loves it_! "Okay...but let me know what you got when you do!"

 "Pooh Bear?"

 "Yeah?"

 "Could...could I bring my presents over there to open?"

 "How come?"

 "I don't know...I just wanna do it with you. Dad says it's okay with him if it's okay with Uncle Hannibal."

 "Let me ask."

 Will finds Hannibal in the dining room and relays Matty's request before handing over the phone.

 "Matty? We would be very happy to see you and Frederick this morning. How about eleven? Then perhaps you will both stay for lunch? May I speak with your father?"

 While the daddies solidify their plans little Will waltzes happily around the house with Santa Bear.

Though he knows he'll be forced to nap later, it'll be worth it just to see Matty open his presents.

 "What did I tell you,  Mr. Bear?" He demands. "This is going to be the best-est Christmas ever!"

 "It sure it!" Santa Bear agrees in his bear voice. "Let's go eat candy!"

 "Yah!" Little Will agrees, "You can have some of mine!"

 "Yippee!" Mr. Bear yells. Will settles him snuggly over his shoulder and hurries off to gloat over his own presents under the tree and wait for Matty's arrival.

Merry Christmas Baby!! 

**Author's Note:**

> Ten points if you noticed "The Grinch Who Stole Christmas" quote.


End file.
